End Of The World
by VanillaKokain
Summary: Domino was a quiet town...until the outbreak. Now zombies run amuck through the streets, killing all, eating all. The survivors don't care about beating the swarm; they just want to stay alive. Marik, YYugi and YBakura for sure, may contain other main characters. Not sure about pairing yet. Discontinued.
1. Chapter1

It was nearly ten o'clock when Marik heard the first scratch on his window. Thinking it was only a tree branch moving against the glass due to the wind, he went on reading his book, lazily lifting potato chips to his lips.

The next scratch came at 10:02. It was louder than the first, a dull squeak. He looked up from the novel, a chip resting between his lips, glancing at his window. He was just able to see the outline of the tree outside, but he didn't see anything moving in the wind. Everything was calm. He watched the window, the reflections on the glass, until the clock changed to 10:03. Then he looked back at his book; it was a collection of ghost stories he'd borrowed from Ryou. The one he was reading now was about a haunted house that would come alive at night and creak, groan, and shuffle, until the occupants became so paranoid they moved out or went mad. Looking back up when the third scratch sounded, he felt a shiver going down his spine. Maybe now would be a good stopping point, he thought to himself. He placed a bookmark between the pages and set the book on his dresser, rolling off the bed so he could change.

He pulled his shirt off, feeling the material rub against the scars on his back. He'd grown used to the feeling by now, but it still gave him a vague sense of unease. Sometimes when he let himself stop and think about it, he could still feel the tip of the knife cutting into his skin; hear his father's piercing words and smell the cheap arak on his breath. But he never let himself stop and think about that anymore. He had cried himself to sleep enough nights, and he'd done his time in therapy. His back was healed, only the scars there to remind him of that night.

Shaking his head, he dropped the dirty shirt to the floor, unbuttoning his pants next.

That was when he heard the moan. He blinked and turned around, looking around his room for the source. His TV and computer were both off, and he didn't have any music playing. He turned to his bedroom door, which was always open a little ways so he would be able to see his way to the bathroom on those kind of nights. "…Sis?" He called out, moving towards the door. Maybe Ishizu had caught another bug and was currently moping about. Or Odion… He could have hurt himself at work. "Odion?"

He was greeted with only silence.

"Ishizu? Odion?"

He began to move towards the door, stopping when he heard another low moan from the opposite side of the room, accompanied by a sound that mimicked nails on a chalkboard. His blood ran cold and he slowly turned around to look at the window. Against his better judgement, he moved slowly towards the window, with each step angling himself so he could see out of it better.

And then he was in front of it.

Marik frowned suspiciously as he gazed out into the dark yard. The light from the streetlamp was barely enough to see by, but it illuminated just enough for him to study the grounds within the fence. There didn't seem to be anything, or anyone, out there. He looked right and left, before his eyebrows stitched together and he made to unlock the window.

At the click of the lock, a hand slapped onto the glass. He cried out and jumped back, ripping his hand away from the window. He stared at the hand. It was pale; yellow-white color in color, it was smeared with blood and dirt, with sharp yellowed nails. The knuckles and wrist bones stuck out prominently against the tight white flesh, and each finger looked skeletal. There were bits of flesh missing here and there, and strands of muscle and sinew hanging from the fingernails.

Blood ran down the glass.

Two empty white eyes became visible in the darkness, blood shot and unseeing. A grotesque hole of a mouth lined with sharp yellow teeth opened and closed, a dirty red tongue hanging from the side. The entire face was covered in blood, and the thing's left cheek bitten off. Its cheek bone was poking through the muscle.

The fingers on the glass moved, forming a fist on the glass. Marik swallowed hard and bit down his scream, frozen to the spot in fear. W-what?

The fist raised from the glass, then moved back down to gently pound against the glass; a parroting of knocking on a door. Marik looked from the fist to the lock to the face that seemed to be trained on him, the blank white eyes staring into his soul. The fist knocked again. And again.

Shaking his head to get over his fear, Marik moved forward and raised his hand to lock the window, watching the thing outside warily.

His fingers touched the lock.

The monster outside stiffened.

The next moment, glass shattered, nails dug into warm, soft flesh, and a loud scream ripped through the night.

Marik stumbled away from the window, choking back another scream as he tripped over his tote bag. He landed hard, elbows sliding against the carpet. He winced, then slowly raised his arm to examine it. There were three long gashes along the side, and blood was pouring out to dribble onto his floor. He swallowed hard and looked up at the remains of the window; the monster's hand slowly pulled back through the hole in the glass, rubbing against a jagged edge and cutting itself. Black, tar like liquid poured out. Marik watched a glob of it fall as the hand disappeared back into the night. He heard slurping sounds for a few seconds. Then more silence.

He shakily got to his feet, holding his arm to himself. Odion had taught him some simple first aid a few years back, so he had enough sense to press down on the wound to lessen the blood flow. He stared at the window, his entire body shaking with fear. What the hell was that thing? And more importantly, was it still there?

As if to answer his question, the creature's face came back into view, looking through the window at him. He make a shocked noise; the monster opened its mouth and let out a long, windy sigh that slowly turned into a moan. It pressed its face through the hole, the glass digging into its sickly skin, thick black blood staining the flesh. Marik let out a moan and took another step back. The monster continued to push in through the hole it had made, the glass soon breaking against the pressure. It slowly wriggled around, moving forward, like a worm searching for a patch of dirt to borrow through. Marik made a sickened choking sound and turned, running quickly from the room. He slammed the door hard. Then he paused there and leaned his back against the door, listening to the sounds of the creature moving about. He glanced back at the door, locking it quickly before racing down the hall.

"SISTER!" He screamed, throwing himself against Ishizu's door to open it quickly. He looked around the dark room, flicking on the lights. No one was there. "ODION!" He turned and did the same to Odion's room.

Eyes widening in disbelief, he raced down stairs, screaming for his two siblings the whole way, hardly feeling the pain in his arm due to fear and adrenaline. He searched the entire house, but found no one.

He was alone.

He took a deep breath before letting it out. Okay... No big deal. They were just at work, like always. He forgot they both worked late tonight. He'd just... Hang out here until they got home. He'd-

His own thoughts were interrupted when something crashed upstairs. He shrieked and ran into the kitchen, grabbing the phone off the wall before yanking open a drawer and grabbing their biggest and longest knife. He punched in the number for the police, holding the phone to his ear as he listened to it ring. It rang. And rang. And just kept rining.

Just as he was about give up and call back when a frazzeled-sounding secretary answered. "911, what is your emergency?" She said it so fast it came out as "Nine one whazzer mergeny".

Marik stuttered, but then found his voice- for the most part- and shouted, "Th- there's someone...something in my house!"

The operator's voice sounded pained. "Sir, I'm sorry, but we're doing the best we can to stop them."

Marik almost scoffed in disbelief. "Them? There's only one! And it attacked me! You have to send someone over right away! Please!"

There was a muffled sound on the other end, like she had switched the reciver to her other ear. "Hun, just stay calm. We're doing everything we can right now, but we're all out of men. They've all been sent out to stop the invasion. We'll-"

Marik cut her off. "Invasion? What are you talking about?"

The operator tisked, but she sounded worried when he spoke. "You haven't been watching the news, have you hun?" Marik stuttered a no; he never watched the news unless Ishizu or Odion told him to. Besides that he had been getting ready for bed. But now, he raced into the TV room, thankful the phone was cordless, and dived for the remote. As the operator told him quick notes about what was happening, he flipped through the channels, passing the news station before backtracking. A pretty redheaded woman sat at a curvy, futueristic looking desk. She was staring into the camera with wide, fearful eyes.

"-tuning in. Police are still unsure of the cause of violence on main street. Earlier reports speculated a terrorist attack, racial violence or a gang war. But the attackers aren't armed with anything, and witness reports show that most wounds appear to be bites and gashes, as with an animal. They are said to attack anyone within reach, and there is an estimate of hundreds injured, and at least fifty deaths."

Marik's eyes widened in horror, and he gripped the phone tight. The plastic body creaked under the strain. Main street... Ishizu worked at the museum on main street! Oh no... He moaned softly and turned up the volume.

"Uncomfirmed witness reports also say that the attackers have no distinct features that mark them as a gang, nor are they just one race. Attackers are said to resemble rotting corpses covered in blood and appear to be rabid. We now go live to Harvey McKinny, our eye in the sky."

The picture changed from the woman to a man inside a helicopter, holding the microphone close to his mouth, a hand on his ear piece. His face was strained and red. The helicopter's door was open, and the man was seated close to it, but there were straps around his waist and shoulders to keep him from falling out.

"Harvey, you are looking over the violence at this very moment. Tell us what you see."

There was a pause as he listened for her voice in his earpiece. Then he took a deep breath.

"Well, Sarah, the only way I can describe it is like a scene from a zombie movie!"

"Zombies? Please explain."

"Well, rotting corpses are running around, biting people, and hardly react to being shot!"

The camera panned down to look at the streets. Just as Harvey had said, there were a few dozen people who looked like they'd been killed and then brought back to life- their skin was dead looking and hung from their bones like baggy clothes, though some looked fresher. Chunks were missing from their limbs or faces, like their skin was rotting and falling away. Others looked like they had bite marks as well.

"Harvey, what are police doing to stop this bloodshed?"

The camera turned to a handful of men behind cars, guns raised, shooting at the lumbering bodies. Harvey explained the scene, also telling viewers that the officials say to stay indoors at the present time. The police operator had long hung up, and the dial tone played in Marik's ear. But he didn't hear any of it. He only saw. His eyes were wide and glassy as they stared at one of the men in uniform; a tall, broad man with serious eyes and a bald head, save for the dark pony tail he kept. His mouth was in a tight line as he popped his gun, brows furrowed.

Marik stared at the image, shaking his head, mouthing the word "No" over and over again. No, please, don't let that be his brother. Please don't let that be Odion. Please.

Grabbing either side of the TV, Marik sent prayer after pray up that the man he was staring at was not Odion. It was just some man that looked exactly like them. Maybe some stalker who wanted to be him, so he got surgery and shaved his head and joined the force to be exactly like Odion. Yeah...That was it.

But no, the pain in that man's face as his bullet sunk into a teenage girl around the same age as Marik... That could never come from anyone but Odion. Marik felt fear and something else rise at the back of his throat, suffocating him.

As he watched, the scene suddenly changed. It was now just rolling over the scene, moving away from the police and just hovering over the zombies and their victims. Bodies covered the streets. Some were unattended, laying there, being trampled, but others...

Others were being devoured on live TV.

Marik covered his mouth with his hands, a foul taste swimming into his mouth. What the hell kind of news station was this? They were actually zooming in on the dead who had become zombie chow. Did they have no respect for the dead? And why weren't they doing anything about the people still alive and being attacked all around them?

His vomit sat quietly at the back of his throat, waiting for an oppertunity to be hacked up. And finally, there was one.

Two of the so-called undead were fighting over a Middle Eastern looking woman, tugging at her arms which were being ripped to pieces by their claw-like nails. They were hissing, spitting, growling at each other, every now and then biting into the woman as if trying to stake a claim. Because of that, large pieces of her were missing, and some of her internal organs were falling out a large hole in her side. If that wasn't bad enough, she was quite obviously alive, by the way she thrashed and screamed and wiggled in her cannibalistic captors' grips.

Even worse, it was Ishizu.

She was crying hard, and her face was contorted in pain. Her usually well kept hair was dishelved and wet with blood, hanging in her face. A large piece near her hair line had been ripped from her scalp, leaving the skin there red and bloody. She couldn't have been aware of the camera above her with the zombies ripping her to pieces, but her eyes seemed to focus on it. Even from so far away, the camera caught every ounce of fear in her wide blue eyes, every heave of her chest, every tear slipping down her face. It even captured her last scream as he zombies finally pulled her arms from thier sockets and she fell to the ground, the zombies falling on top of her to feast.

Marik's puking wasn't particularly violent or heavy; since he'd skipped lunch and dinner that day, all that came up was stomach acid. But there was a lot of it, and he gagged for several minutes afterwards, sobbing in between each hack. No, this wasn't happening. This seriously wasn't happening! It was all just a dream. A nightmare. He'd fallen asleep reading, and soon he would be awakened for school. Ishizu would see the book and scold him for reading such things before bed, but he'd laugh it off and lie about his nightmares. Then he would ride with Odion to school because he loved riding in the cop car, and Odion let him play with the sirens every so often. Everything would go on as normal and soon he'd forget this nightmare.

He had almost convinced himself when the zombie upstairs let out a bone-chilling wail and assumingly through himself at the door. From the dull thud after the crash, Marik knew the door had been flung open. Dream or not, he wouldn't die by the same monsters that killed his sister.

Jumping up, he ran over to the ottoman and flipped the hinged lid open, grabbing the .45 caliber pistol from underneath the magazines. One of the perks of having a cop as an older brother was that it made him obsessed with safety, especially in the home. Both Odion and Ishizu worked- had worked- so many hours during their shifts, Marik was usually home alone. They didn't live in the best of neighborhoods, and one of their neighbors was attacked in their home and then robbed. So, as a precaution, Odion had shown Marik how to fire a gun and left one in every other room. Marik had thought it was stupid of him at the time, but now he silently thanked Odion for being paranoid.

In the next room, he heard the quick shuffling of undead feet. Labored breathing bounced around the silence.

Taking a deep breath, Marik cocked the gun, said a quick prayer, and slowly made his way towards the monster.


	2. Chapter 2

Bakura felt his mother's arm drape around his shoulder and pull him close, but he didn't pull away. At any other time, he probably would have growled at the woman and shrugged the arm off, then stuff his hands in his pockets and pretend the hurt look his mother wore didn't hurt him. He was probably the only "tough guy" that didn't go out of his way to show his mother he loved her. Sure, he loved her- of course he loved her, it was his father he couldn't stand!- but he just hated being touched by family.

But right now, he couldn't imagine being anywhere else. He even put his own arm around her to show her he was alright, gently rubbing her back. His mother was small and delicate, with pure white hair and the kindest green eyes you would ever see. Her face was a bit round, and she was a tad chubby from the baby weight she hadn't been able to lose after three kids. Her hands were small though; fragile looking, like a handshake could break them, with long slender fingers. Her nails were usually cut to a nice length, but right now they were chewed down to the quick.

His mother liked to worry about everyone and everything. She had been the one to notice his friend Marik's bruises day after day. Bakura had asked him about it before, but after the fifteenth "I'm fine, Bakura", he'd dropped it. Figured Marik just got into fights when he wasn't around. Tried to stop caring and for the most part, did. But his mother wouldn't give up. She asked him what had happened in the calmest, most persuading voice she could make until he finally broke down one day and told her everything. How his father got drunk on anything and everything and beat him and Odion nearly every night, and how he threatened Ishizu with rape not to tell a soul. Something Bakura had never thought about. He'd felt like a shitty friend after that, but he'd been proud of his mother because she was able to get his friend the help he needed.

So if the question was, "Does Bakura love his mother?" the answer would be "Yes."

Then there was Ryou, his twin brother, whom he may have loved even more. He was the spitting image of their mother when she was younger, before kids. His white hair was even the same length as hers, though a tad wilder in nature so it stuck up in a few places. His eyes were also wider, brighter. He was definitely more muscular than her, and taller, but if he wore the right clothes, their mother's old friends would greet him as they would her, and go on about how thin she had gotten, and how young she looked. Occurrences like this made Ryou awkward and weary whenever they went out without their mother, and he tried not to wear clothes that even resembled gender neutrality, let alone women's clothes.

Finally, seated on Ryou's lap, was their little sister Amane. She was only six, and she had just lost her right incisor. She was very proud of the gap between her teeth, and liked showing it off to anybody who would listen. She had her father's blue hair, styled in a short pixie cut due to a recent accident with bubblegum, but had her mother's eyes. Bakura was the only one in the family with his father's purple eyes. He was a bit jealous of that... Because he, he who hated his father, was forced to look into the man's face whenever he passed a mirror. Forget that he had his mother's white hair. The eyes were the same. Silent. Strong. Apathetic. But Amane, who had their father's hair looked so much like their mother. And Bakura was jealous of that.

But right now, he wasn't concerned with his looks. They were all glued to the TV- or, more precisely, what the newscast was showing at the moment. It was long after their bedtimes, since it was Thursday. Their mother had work and they had school. But not one of them could sleep with that was going on in their home town. None of them could even think of sleeping after what they had just witnessed.

Ishizu's scream would haunt them forever.

Their mother's eyes were wet after they saw that. It was why she had pulled her family close. She needed the comfort after losing her friend, and they needed the comfort after watching someone they knew being ripped to pieces by rabid humans.

The camera turned away from the eldest Ishtar being devoured, to which Bakura was both angry and grateful for. He would never want to witness his best friend's big sister being eaten, but he hadn't been able to look for Marik in the crowd. He didn't want Marik to be in the crowd. He wanted Marik to be home, safe and sound. He swallowed hard.

"Where's Marik?" he whispered to no one in particular. Then, screaming, "WHERE THE FUCK IS MARIK?"

His mother's arm tightened around him. She didn't bother to scold him for his language. She, of course, was more worried that he was crying. She whispered a kiss to his temple and then rested a cheek on his head. He took a shuddering breath, then forced himself to calm down. He couldn't help Marik by screaming at the television. He turned to Ryou. "Give me your cell phone."

Without thinking, Ryou handed it over. Bakura's had been confiscated earlier that week for having it out during class. And also having a picture of Marik and he flipping off the camera with rock metal faces as his background. He didn't see the big deal, though.

Taking the phone with a grateful nod, Bakura immediately punched in Marik's number. It rang, once...twice...five times...six...twelve. He hung up but kept the phone in his lap so he could call again in a few minutes. He would not give up until he either got a hold of Marik, or knew he'd been eaten. For now, he turned his attention back to the news.

There had once been the echo of bullets in the video, but now, aside from screaming, groaning, and sloppy munching, it was quiet. It was obvious what happened. The police had run out of bullets. Bakura raised a hand to his mouth and bit down hard on his thumb. He didn't want it to be true. Not because he actually had some morals and cared whether or not the cops there died. But because he had seen Odion laying on the roof of one car, taking aim at the zombies that filed the streets. Bakura knew what it meant for Marik's adoptive brother if they were all out of ammo. He didn't want the man to die. He didn't want Marik to be alone.

If any god was listening to his thoughts right now, it was obvious the deity hated him. With only their batons to defend themselves, the police were soon over powered by their undead adversaries. Zombies grabbed the flailing weapons and used them to pull the officers closer and bite into their flesh. The men began falling back, retreating to hopefully regroup. For a moment, it looked like Odion would be safe. He was near the front- or maybe the back, since all the men were walking backwards- of the group, holding his baton like a sword. It seemed as though he would be safe. But then one of the men standing close to him was attacked and dragged to the ground. As much as Bakura pleaded, as much as he actually prayed, Odion didn't take the boy's silent advice to just keep walking. Forget about kindness and save himself, save Marik. But no, he stopped and raised his baton to hit the monster currently chewing on his fellow officer's ear. In that time, another zombie was able to grab his pony tail and yank his head back. Sharp yellow teeth bit into his neck, and he no longer moved.

Bakura swallowed, his mouth feeling dry and tasting bitter. Amane began crying into her brother's neck.

The camera stayed on the image of the police being torn apart for another minute before flicking back to the red haired woman in the news room.

No one on the couch spoke. All were silent aside from Amane's gasping sobs. Slowly, Ryou turned to look at his brother. Bakura was staring at the television, wide eyed and pale. His breathing was deep, purposeful. His mouth was set into a gruesome frown.

"Bakur-" Ryou started, knowing the look; he got that look whenever he was about to do something stupid. Before he could finish Bakura jumped up and raced out of the room. Ryou gave Amane a quick hug and handed her to their mother, then chased after Bakura. He found his brother picking the lock to their father's study. He knew there were hunting guns in there. He knew there were other weapons too. But he had known what his brother was going to try the moment he stood up.

"Bakura, you can't go out there," he said, walking up behind Bakura.

"Why not?" his twin growled in return, not looking up. The lock clicked and the door swung open. Bakura stood and pushed inside, navigating around littered desks and waste baskets and boxes of antiques and ancient artifacts.

"Because, if you do, you're going to die!"

Bakura opened the closet on the far end of the room, pulling out an elephant rifle and studying it. "I still have to go see. I can't just leave Marik out there."

Ryou let out an angry huff, crossing his arms. When his brother and Marik had first become friends, Ryou had been thrilled. Bakura didn't like making friends, especially friends who weren't like him. He'd had a friend once, though. A boy with skin so pale it looked gray, with beefy arms and dark raven hair. He'd had the creepiest red eyes... and they had been natural! He and Bakura had been pretty close friends, but Ryou would never believe his brother would tromp outside in the beginnings of a zombie apocalypse to save him

But now he regretted ever introducing him. He didn't want Marik to die, but if his brother would be safe, he could live with it. He already missed his dad too much, and the man wasn't even dead. He didn't want to lose anymore family.

Crossing over to Bakura, he grabbed his arm and forcibly turned him around. Bakura looked a little surprised at the action, Ryou usually being calm and talking through his problems; but he didn't have time to say anything as his twin's palm smacked him hard across the face. He gasped slightly at the sting, eyes scrunching. He looked down at Ryou with a warning glare. Ryou usually shrunk under these looks, but this time he stood strong and glared back.

"Bakura, if you go out there, do you know what's going to happen? You're going to be killed and eaten just like Ishizu and Odion. If Marik had been there, he would have been near Ishizu, no matter what was happening, and you know that. If he'd been killed, he'd have been on the ground by her, and if he hadn't, he would have been trying to fight the zombies off. You know that! So we can assume he's safe at home. Just call him again. He might not have heard the first time."

Bakura stared at him, but then growled and pushed him away. "We can't assume anything. How do you know he wasn't just dragged somewhere else and is still fighting for his life out there? He might-"

Ryou slapped him again, on the other cheek. This time Bakura growled and pushed him away. "Stop it! I'm staying here." He turned his back to Ryou and continued hunting in the gun closet. He would not run out of ammo mid-fight and leave himself defenseless.

Ryou watched him, a large frown on his lips. But then he sighed, touched his brother's shoulder and said, "Let me come with you then."

Bakura startled and turned around. "What! No way. You stay here and protect mum and Amane. I can do this myself."

"No, you can't. What if there's a zombie behind you, huh?" He reached forward and grabbed Bakura's hair, tugging hard so he was bent backwards. Bakura cried out and glared harder. Ryou felt a little bad, but he couldn't afford to be nice. "What if they kill you just like Odion?"

Bakura pried his twin's fingers from his hair and pushed him away again. "I'll cut my hair before I leave."

Ryou shook his head. "That's not good enough. You need someone to watch your back. Please, Bakura. Don't go out there without me."

Bakura was silent for a long time, his hand in a box of ammunition he'd just found. He paused, sighed, and looked back at his brother. He nodded. "Fine."

Ryou smiled and went to hug his brother, but a gun was shoved into his arms instead. He grinned at him. Bakura only stared hard at him for a few moments before smirking. They both continued to look through the gun closet, grabbing a gun every now and then and filling every pocket they could with bullets. Bakura knew more about guns, so Ryou let him pick which guns were slung over their backs for back up and which were left behind. By the time they were gun, there were three rifles strapped to Bakura and two to Ryou. They had also found some pistols and currently had a few stuffed down the back of their pants and through their belt loops. Bakura grabbed a hunting knife and strapped the holder to his leg.

When done, they were both weighed down by their weapons, but the adrenaline they were beginning to feel kept them from buckling under the weight. Ryou was imagining it as a first person video game. It was probably a horrible thing to do, and would make him careless from time to time. But he didn't know how to fight. It made him feel more confident when he pretended he knew all the controls.

Bakura, however, didn't imagine it as anything other than a search and rescue. He would give anything not to take Ryou along, but there was no other way. He'd just have to keep one eye out for Marik and one on his twin.

Their mother was still shushing Amane as they stepped into the room. Ryou immediately went over to rub her back, whispering "It's okay, Amane. It'll be alright" over and over. Their mother stared at him, at the guns, then whipped around to look at her other son. Her eyes were wide with shock and fear and full of tears.

Bakura swallowed and forced himself to keep his eyes on his mother. "We're going out there, mum."

Their mother's mouth opened a little bit, but then snapped closed. She nodded slowly. She probably knew that, regardless of whether or not they stayed home, they would be killed. Sooner or later the zombies would break in, and that would be the end of their family. Stifling a sob, the woman jumped up and walked over to Bakura, embracing him. He stiffened a bit at the contact, but when his mother's face pressed into his neck and he felt her tears on his skin, he hugged her back. Hard. Burying his face into her shoulder and squeezing until she told him she couldn't breath and pushed him away. She chuckled softly and held his face. He grinned back, a bit awkwardly, most of his face muscles strained from having to hold in his tears.

"Be careful out there, Akefia," she whispered softly, using his real name. She was the only one who was allowed to call him that. Everyone else, friends and family alike, addressed him by his last name.

His lips quivered a bit and he nodded, a single tear rolling down his cheek. He pulled away and turned to hide it, pretending to study his gun. "Sure, mum."

His mother smiled and kissed his forehead before walking over and hugging Ryou. They shared more words than she and Bakura, and from the way Ryou's shoulders were shaking, had shed more tears. When they were done there, everyone wiped their faces. Ryou and Bakura said a quick goodbye to Amane, hugging her tight as well.

The boys made sure their mother and sister had a plan before leaving; they would lock all the doors and windows, draw the curtains and turn off all the lights. They would grab a few guns and knives and plenty of bullets from the study, pack up enough food to last at least a few days, then make their way to the attic. Amane cried, and tried begging them to stay home. When that didn't work, she begged them to take her with them. Bakura glanced at Ryou. He knew where she'd gotten that attitude.

Ryou promised Amane they would be back as soon as they knew Marik was safe. There was a slight hesitancy in his voice that Bakura detected. He wanted to say "Or when we find his body."

Ryou didn't think Marik had made it. Bakura's stomach churned, almost wanting to believe it.

After all was said and finally done, they went to the door, saying one last goodbye as they opened it. They each had their backs to the door, and couldn't understand their mother's horrified look, or why Amane suddenly screamed. But then Bakura felt something sharp dig into his back and he fell to his knees, defenseless as the undead filtered into the room.  
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End file.
